Be the Chick who Loves to Run in Heat

Something has got to give!  Starting a run in extreme heat is much more difficult than beginning early in the morning when it’s cooler, and gradually working myself into the heat.

The heat wave is still on in the western states.  There’s been deaths, fires, and immense tragedies (we lost 19 elite firemen yesterday in one forest fire).  We are fortunate locally.  Historically, we’ve got a few months before fire season.  And the heat deaths have been east of us, or in Nevada and other western states.  For us here in Southern California, it’s just damn HOT. 

If you are a reader, you are familiar with my dilemma.  I am a morning runner.  But my summer job assignment forces me to run afternoons.  And thus, I hit the trails this afternoon at approximately 1:40 PM.

About a mile in, I suffered immensely.  My body felt heavy, my eyes already stung from salt.  I wanted very badly to turn back.  Exasperated, I phoned my husband and asked, “How hot is it right now?” 

This is what he did:  he busted up laughing.

This is what I did:  I hung up on him.

When my husband, my coach called me back, he spoke to me in the way that he knows motivates me.  We have known each other for thirty-two years (gasp!), and he knows a little bit about me.  

“Don’t be a baby who can’t run in the heat,” he said.  “You know what precautions to take.  YOU KNOW HOW TO DO THIS.  Be the chick who loves to run in the heat.”

Just minutes earlier I wanted to fall to the ground in a heap of tears.  Strange how his words, “be the chick . . . “ changed my motivation.  Suddenly, I wanted to learn to be the chick who loves to run in the heat. 

And so I ran. 

And I was MISERABLE.  But, I knew what precautions to take.  I kept hydrated.  I didn’t try to break any personal pace records.  I kept on the lookout for environmental hazards.  I enjoyed the summer beauty.

First thing I did when I reached Top of the World was unpack my bandana.  I drenched it and lay it on my neck.  Then I ran into the city park and guzzled down at the fountain (even though I had a pack on my back).  I washed down my face in the public bathroom, soaked my hat.  Then I drenched my bandana again and draped it over my head for the run back.

I don’t need no stinkin’ air-conditioning: 

I ran a little over 6.5 hilly miles this afternoon.  And I think that was quite enough.  I’m not yet the chick who loves to run in the heat.  But at least, I didn’t turn back.

Harding Hustle / Maple Springs Aid

I woke to a 4:30 AM alarm and frantically searched my brain.  “What am I supposed to do?”  Eventually I realized that I was working the Harding Hustle race in Modjeska Canyon.  Let me tell you!  I was so happy to remember that I was working this race and not running it.  Why?  First off, because I was so dang fatigued.  But most importantly, because we’re in the middle of a so-called “heat wave.”  I wouldn’t have wanted to run uphill for approximately 16 miles for a turnaround and downhill for the same length. Practically the entire route is exposed, with very, very little shade. (I should not forget to mention the bees and gnats.)

So much to tell from this wondrous event, as I always have so much to tell from working races.  I can’t possibly cover it all.  First off, I met fellow blogger Giraffty. She was working “Check-in.”   We’ve been reading & commenting on each other’s blogs, for it seems years.  I recognized Heather the instant I saw her.  She is even more beautiful and smiley than online.

I also worked with a wonderful crew.  There were 7 of us: 4 aiding the runners, 1 medic, the radio (HAM) guy and his wife/girlfriend.  We set up at the top of Harding Truck Trail, a place called “Four Coroners,” where I commonly run.  Because I am a chronic water stasher, I took advantage of ride up and stashed the jugs of water that I purchased the night before.

The quick recap of the day goes like this:  We were beneath the hot, hot sun for many hours.  Over 100 f degrees.  I saw runners come in triumphantly.  I saw runners come in beaten.  Some runners had their wits about them, others couldn’t think straight.  A few runners cracked.  They flat out lost the mental battle.  And for them they had a nice air conditioned drive down to the finish.  Others dropped down to a shorter distance race.  One runner, took off the wrong way at about mile 23.  She began running down Maple Springs Road, which would have dumped her several miles from the finish.  Because we all thought that she had tucked into the bushes for a potty break, we did not realize her error for quite a while.  That made her error our error.  With many minutes head start, I could not catch her down a wretchedly hot Maple Springs.  At times I could see her far off in the distance.  I yelled out in my loudest voice, to no avail.  Pretty quickly, the HAM operator picked me up in his truck, and we drove about 3 miles before picking her up.  I broke the news to runner with apologies.  Turns out, she was a great spirited girl, and she laughed and laughed about her mistake.  Driving her back to our aid, she took in some fluids and instead of DNFing, she actually ran the 9.3 miles back.

I came to realize some things about endurance running yesterday.  The main thing is, the first  and yes, greatest triumph comes from taking off at the start line.  The other thing is, the main defeat is not your time nor whether or not you finish.  It’s whether or not your mind remains strong during all the obstacles that are hurled at you during the event.  Rarely does everything go smoothly.  Instead, you’ve got things like boulders, locked gates, extreme heat, hydration and fueling mistakes, wrong turns, falls, dropped water bottles, blisters, rolled ankles, etc., etc., etc.   On a good day, a runner keeps his/her wits about him – that is, there’s little panic or desperation.  Instead, despite the unknowns thrown at him, he keeps his mental strength.  Even a strong runner though has his collapses.  I know first hand about those collapses.  And I saw them second hand today.  Fortunately, there’s a silver lining.  After crawling out of that mental “defeat,” there is so much to learn.  There’s actually much more to learn, about yourself, about running, about life, in these defeats than there is in the triumphs.  And that’s a good thing.

Scenes from the day: 

Summer Trails

No work today.  But I spent the morning getting the children to their places.  Though summer break completely messes with my running, I wouldn’t have it any other way.  The boys need to do things during their break.  I wouldn’t want them sitting home every day.  Alas, this meant that I didn’t get to the trails until 10:30 AM.  Late morning is much better than mid afternoon.   Still, I started off today’s run in the heat.  Thus I suffered somewhat.  But that’s what this is kinda all about (kinda).  I’m just not used to running in 100f degree weather yet.  I will get there.  Some smart planning beforehand would help a tad.

For example, this morning I spent the first three miles running downhill, deep into Wood Canyon.  I even took a detour along the super shady, gorgeous Wood Creek Trail. 

A look into Wood Canyon from Wood Creek Trail:

Wood Creek Trail:

I would have faired better to run this loop in reverse, leaving this shadiest portion for last.  And why the heck did I choose Car Wreck Trail as my route out of the canyon????  This is why:  I must run through Oak Grove Trail which is lush, shady and fairy-tale like, in order to get to Car Wreck.

The beginning of Car Wreck (still shady and like a fairy-tale):

The car wreck on Car Wreck Trail was swarming with visitors – 5 or so hikers, 2 mountain bikers.  I took the opportunity to run down a hidden single-track for a bit, wondering where this wonder would lead.  I eventually turned back when the shade ended.  I didn’t want to take a trail in the sun that I didn’t know.  I will be back though – perhaps in the winter time.

Off the beaten path, looking back toward Car Wreck Trail:

Well, it was about high noon as I made my climb out of the canyon to Top of the World in Laguna Beach.  Frustrated by my slow pace, I remembered that my pace is always slower than usual in extreme heat, especially in the beginnings of heat training.  I let myself “off the hook,” and picked up my pace only when I felt that I could do it without fainting.  When I finally reached Top of the World, I refilled my handheld, then guzzled down at the drinking fountain.  Feeling rather overheated and now waterlogged from the water fountain guzzling, I rushed off to the public bathrooms to wash my face.  I only slightly watered my face because I didn’t want to wash away my sunscreen.  But then salt dripped down and stung my eyes.  I knew that would happen.  What was I thinking?  Then I thoroughly washed my face in cold water.  It felt so darn good, damn the sunscreen.  Afterward, I soaked my hat in a sink of cold water.  Then I headed back to my truck, running along West Ridge, all exposed trail, but completely bearable because the climbs are not so steep.

Climbing out of Car Wreck:

Top of the World:

Looking at Modjeska and Santiago Peaks (where my demons and angels reside):

HOT is the Word

With my summer teaching position comes a new way of life.  I now work mornings (yikes!), which means that I can’t run weekday mornings.  I am a morning runner, no if-ands-or-buts about it.  Now, the earliest that I can possibly hit the trails is 1:30 PM. (And that’s if I get out of work a bit early).

So, I sat in an air-conditioned classroom for 5 hours.  Then once all the students left, I quickly put on some running clothes in that air-conditioned classroom.  Then I drove my air-conditioned truck to some close-by trails.  Then . . .THEN I ran inland.  That is, AWAY from the ocean.

I was “out of the loop.”  No one told me about the extreme heat advisory today.

O . . . M . . . G.  It was a little hot.  And then it got hotter.  And hotter.  And there was no shade for the first 3 miles.  No.  Shade.

But it was, oh so beautiful:

Still no shade.  But I did get chuckle out of this sign.  Since when does a wild animal attack WITH warning? (Oh, and notice Saddleback Mountains in the background):

Did I mention already that it got hotter?

And even hotter?

And there was no shade:

And even more no shade!

Finally!

Somewhere I belonged:

I got a little more shade, but found it difficult not to think about the sun I would need to run back through on my return trip.  As I passed beneath a major overpass, I spotted this broken-up chair, next to it a shattered television.  Can you believe that someone probably chucked these off the overpass?  That’s besides the point. (Still, who would do that?)  I took the opportunity of a chair in an odd place for a quick photo-op.

And then it was lovely shade for a little longer.  Notice no brace as I practice my awkward female foot pose:

Can you imagine that this beauty was in such wretched, almost miserable heat?

Eventually, I could not hack it any longer, turned around and headed back.  I’m not heat trained.  But I did manage to run 10.15 miles on trails.  Though I carried enough fluids, I felt like vomiting back at the truck.  Then I quickly blasted the air-conditioner for the drive home.

The elevation gain did not AT ALL seem like this.  But this is what my garmin recorded: